


A Steady Hand

by halfwaybowden



Category: Ballum, EastEnders (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26389651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfwaybowden/pseuds/halfwaybowden
Summary: Of all the ways that this could've gone, Callum never saw this coming; his ex-girlfriend, forced into premature labour in order to give both herself and his unborn child the best chances of survival. Guilt rises in his throat like bile, clutching the air from his lungs as he looks on helplessly, nothing to just but wait and pray and wait some more.Except he has Ben now. By his side, always. Keeping him steady when the world might fall out from under him.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell, Whitney Dean/Callum "Halfway" Highway
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	A Steady Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! I'm quite nervous to post this, as it feels extremely random (although hopefully original) to upload; it's been in my drafts for a couple of months and I finally got it to a place I was happy with, so I hope it's somewhat decent to read. This is very very off canon, as Callum does not have a secret child and Ben isn't scripted to be deaf, but there are a couple of iconic gems related to their characters so let me know if you spot any; I hope you enjoy! :)

For the first time in his twenty four years of life, the solid stench of bleach and obnoxiously bright overhead lights unsettle Ben. He was, sadly, no stranger to the institutionalised surroundings - having endured countless check ups as a child, being treated for numerous cuts and bruises and one particularly painful memory of being knocked senseless by the man supposed to be his lover; the unfamiliarity that often proved to churn the stomach of others never had the same effect on Ben. 

Or at least not until now. 

As in any emergency situation, the sharp bursts of adrenaline still circulated his body, flaming his veins into agitated movements. A cross of the leg, fingers tapping against his arms in a folded grip, pouring upteen glasses of water just to give himself a small sense of duty. In hindsight, the realisation of why he was so worked up only exacerbated his concerns, as he knew he would soon be venturing into uncrossed territories; this wasn't as simple as a one night stop over, but more of the beginning of a new ardorous and painstaking routine of visiting hours, car parking fees, but worst of all? there wasn't anything Ben could do to minimise the trauma for those alongside him in this white, nauseating bubble.

Ben couldn't still his thoughts knowing that Callum was suffering, that he couldn't promise him a clean escape from this nightmare, that he was in love with someone he might lose. Again. 

He pours clear liquid into a clear cup, a small huff of amusement tickling his lips as he considers just how mundane this place can get, as if it's purpose wasn't for reviving life but sucking it out from every corner. He counts each step upon his return - it had taken him 11 to reach the dispenser, and he doesn't know where to hold the information that he can do it in 9 when he's trying - and just to spice things up, he seats himself down on Tiff's right, a dramatic change from his previous position to her left.

"Used to drive me mad, as a kid." He says, unable to contain anymore of his energy. "Why do they make the cup so small? It's like they want you running up and down the hallways, getting in their way or something." 

He brings the cup to her palms, situated on top of bouncing knees, and his heart clenches a little to see her take it with two hands in order to secure a tight enough grip.

"It's a clever, distraction I'll give them that. S'only a matter time before they start charging for it, though." Tiffany merely cradles the cup to her lips, taking a minute sip and not faltering in her silence. 

"Next round's on you, yeah?" 

"How do you do it?" 

Any sense of victory Ben had in seeing the young girl raise her head to look at him soon vanishes, as her long auburn locks accentuate the paleness of her face. Her eyes are bloodshot, tired, contrasting the distant gaze that lies behind them and mirroring their empty surroundings. He remembers, suddenly, just how young she is to have something so heavy thrust upon her shoulders alone.

"How can you be so calm, all the time? Does it not bother you, that your boyfriend might lose his child? Lose Whit? Does he even-" She brings a hand up to her mouth, choking down words that she never permitted to leave her mouth alongside a soft sob. 

"You know I ain't gonna answer that." Ben offers, stern but without hostility. "He never meant for this. He's... well, he's Callum, Tiff, he'd trade places with either of them girls right now if he could." 

"I know it ain't his fault." Tiff offers solemnly, even if the tall lad wasn't in the proximity to benefit from small reassurances. "I'm sorry, I never meant that. M just terrified, like what if I don't get her back? Where do I go, how will I deal with-" 

"Whoah," Ben interjects, a strong hand reaching out for the end of her knee, fingertips brushing the frail plastic. "The last you heard, she was doing alright, yeah? Responding well, stable?" This time, the feeble nod to the floor is enough to count as a victory. "So we've avoided worst case scenario. That's good." 

"What, so I'm supposed to be grateful for that?" Tiffany retorts.

"Look, the point is it's something Tiff. It ain't much, I get that, but it's enough for ya to hold out for something more, right? Don't give up on her, and she won't give up on you." 

He's done another lap of the ring-road, it seems, because without even trying, his words hold weight to the man who in such a short space of time has filled such a large part of Ben's thoughts. Ben's heart. Ben's life. 

Subconsciously, his fingers twitch with longing to be in Callum's presence. To have him here to protect and to comfort and hold. Before he can stand, contemplating another 11 steps to the water dispenser to shift the dynamics between an unusual pairing of people, Tiff tips her head back to neck her water in one. If she blinks back some of her tears in the process, Ben doesn't need to know. 

"Same again?" He teases, accompanied by a gentle nudge. Vulnerable wasn't something Ben offered to anyone and everyone, and although he felt for Tiff, wanting to provide a small sense of comfort or relief for her, he couldn't let things get too heavy. He welcomes her response that tells him she feels the same, and that being mutual accomplaces for their significant parties would suffice. 

"I'm not as tight as you, so I think I'm gonna go and look for something stronger." She takes a minute to stable herself upon standing, hand that wasn't gripping the empty cup running down to her knee and back. "Want anything?" 

"I'm a'right, love, but here." Ben fumbles in his pocket before reaching out a crumpled note. "Grab Callum a coffee." 

"Callum doesn't drink coffee." 

An endearing smile coats Ben's face, knowing full well about his boyfriend's abhorrence of a drink he swore blindly for to even contemplate starting his day. He was yet to reinstall his faith that Callum was even capable of making a decent cuppa, no matter how many times he reminded him that just a splash of milk would suffice, as opposed to a 50/50 split with lukewarm water. Still, Ben prided himself on nothing else than his nimble abilities of persuasion, and so it was with great endeavour that he had swayed Callum into drinking tea in the early hours, when even he could admit the sweetness of hot chocolate seemed somewhat overbearing. Ben has confidence that he will be able to take the next step on this journey. 

"Trust me, he'll thank me for the head start when the lungs on that one start screaming." 

____

Fuelled with even more restless energy, thanks to the tingling sensations niggling at his skin through a flimsy silicon cup, Ben allowed his legs to carefully carry him down the corridors of the maternity ward. Bold paintings of rainbows, animals, sunshine and other illuminations faded into a stream of pastel blue, dividing the walls in half from the sickening, swirling white and a lower tone of grey running nearest to the floor. 'Cheerful', smirks his inner monologue, before a chilling sensation sweeps through him again, the most unsettling of the long night so far - not every parent was granted with the opportunities that had, consistently, shaped his life for the better. Not every parent got to witness the rainbows and blinding happiness of new life, before it was ripped from their hands and dragged down into a pit of agony. 

Upon entering the side room, occupied solely by Callum and an incubated infant, Ben observed how in such little time, the heaviness had descended across his boyfriend like weighted chains across his shoulders. Somehow, his legs hadn't failed him, albeit one was crossed behind the other as he leaned atop of the see-through cage that was keeping his daughter alive. His head had drooped to lay across his outstretched arm, cheek flat against his wrist, hair following suit as if the little life below him was nothing short of a gravitational force. It breaks Ben's heart all the more, seeing the boy who without realising, could not contain himself from moving every second, become so overwhelmed with fear and fatigue and guilt. Enough was enough. 

A steady wrist escorts a lonesome chair across the short distance, before a grounding pressure is released from Ben's palm to the centre of Callum's shoulder blades. He pauses, just one more second, before running the length of his spine (curved from his stature), a motion that tells him without words that he is allowed to ease his body with no expense to the life he vows with his own to protect. 

Whether he lowers himself, or crumples, Ben chooses instead to fixate his gaze on the baby before them, and once again, he follows the pattern of finding two hands to encompass a warm cup. His fingertips linger, a brush of comfort, anything more and he could trigger the fatal tidal wave that is bursting at the barriers for release.

"She's gorgeous, Callum." 

The sound that claws at Callum's raw throat could only be described as a scoff, tacked with pain that Ben had never seen wash over him with so much force. The past year had been nothing short of painful, for all involved - Callum was just beginning to let himself believe that it was okay to be this free in himself, no repercussions required. Ben was slowly allowing himself to take down his walls, brick by brick being handed to Callum with increasing trust that he wouldn't be stripped so vulnerable again. And Whitney; as heartbroken as she had been to see her relationship come to an end, was beginning to heal and nourish the idea that this baby uniting them would be a doting reminder of the love they had shared, something to tie them together infinitely and secure a base that neither parent had experienced before. 

Stability. Continuuity. Loyalty. They still had that with each other, even if no longer romantically. 

"No she ain't." 

Ben's glad to have passed the coffee over to his boyfriend, as his agonising whisper sparks onto his skin, igniting a burning sensation far stronger than any mediocre beverage could. 

Whatever he was expecting Callum to say, it certainly wasn't that. 

"You what?" 

Callum makes the effort to fold his torso down, coffee abandoned on the aged tiles, but he fails to muster enough energy to drag himself back up; with the gentlest of touches, his forehead comes to rest on the incubator glass, a weak breath barely clouding over the surface. 

"Look at her, Ben. Look at her." 

"I'm looking." Ben replied quickly, concentrated in masking the shake in his voice. "And I see a beautiful, little future troublemaker, who's already got her Dad's fight in her." 

As if he's been stung, Callum flinches away from his daughter, back briefly hitting the chair before he twists and catches Ben's eyes for the first time. His pupils are shot, which Ben isn't naive enough to believe to be a result of the lower lighting, and replacing the calm, ocean waves is a glazing of pain and fear. 

"Please don't say that," Callum pleads, gripping Ben's wrist in an iron grip. "Don't say that, she don't have a chance if she's anything like me-" 

"That's enough, now." Ben interrupts, sliding his hand across to his shoulder and curling his fingers into an iron grip. Callum might fall apart without it. 

"You don't make it through a horrific childhood, countless tours of Afghanistan and endless years of self loathing without a bit of fight, it's damn near impossible as it is. You don't see it, I know you don't, and I wish I could just draw it out for you or do something to show just how special you are, Callum. The way you love, after everything, I-" 

Ben meant to keep his composure; that was, afterall, the sole purpose of him accompanying both Callum and Tiffany in their agonising, painstakingly long wait to see if their worlds would keep on spinning. But laying his feelings out there so blatantly, so openly, it terrifies him. Because Ben Mitchell doesn't do vulnerable for anyone and everyone. 

Only for Callum. 

"It's what I love most about you. And honestly, I can't wait to just watch you grow into this, being a dad and that. She'll never have to worry about going hungry, having a roof over her head, or not feeling good enough, none of that, because your love? It's not just enough, it's everything.

Callum dips his head to rest on Ben's hand, not so much in defeat as in affection for the man standing beside him. Behind him. Always ready to catch him when he thinks he's about to fall. In the smallest of movements, he twists to press a lingering kiss over his knuckles in an attempt to display his gratitude. 

"I don't know about all that," he speaks quietly, turning again to meet Ben's eyes in the hope that he wouldn't immediately launch into disputing him. "I just can't help but fear how badly I've messed up, yaknow? Sure, I don't get things right very often, never have, really, but- it's not just me that's gonna suffer now, is it? There's you, Whit, and-" Callum falters with not being able to address his daughter by name - they thought they more time for those discussions - and instead offers a harrowing sigh. "She wasn't even born and I managed to get it so wrong." 

"I won't lie to you, I don't know a lot about women," Ben offers, earning a small huff across the back of his hand from Callum. "But anything could've happened, at any point, yeah? There is nothing you could've done; you've been at every scan, checked in with Whit every day, and Christ, I've never seen you read so many books." 

Callum's laugh, however shallow, fills Ben's heart with a comforting warmth. 

"So on the what, 5%? That it could've been stress related? It could never have been down to you, Callum, you relieve more than you could ever create." 

The soft silence that settles over them isn't as suffocating as it had been when Ben walked in, and he prays to a God he has never believed in to let his words resonate with the beautiful man beside him. Callum reaches for Ben's hand and works his fingers between the gaps of his own, squeezing and just holding on. He'd always felt searing courage with Ben, like he would truly be alright amidst any foreign situation because he wasn't so overwhelmingly alone anymore. And for all the worry and heartache that still loiters in his mind like a cloud, it's could never sweep him off his feet with Ben as his anchor. 

"I wouldn't be able to do any of this, without you." 

Ben comes to his side with the intention of perching on Callum's knee, but the space is too small and he settles for crouching next to him, hands resting flat on Callum's thigh. In the thick of recent nights shared together, he had vowed to never come between Callum and his newfound responsibilities, nor would he ever make him choose; choices like that only tear people apart, and they are too good together, they've discovered. 

"I mean it." Callum continues. "It's like I don't have invisible weights on my ankles, following me in every direction, tripping me up. I just feel like me, I can concentrate on the good stuff. This, this is good, right? Yeah, not the intensive care bit, but-"  
Wordlessly, Ben reaches out for Callum's hands now writhing nervously in his lap, before singling one out and clenching it into a fist between his palms. He is gentle as he extends Callum's index finger alone, only to then slowly lift his hand to the small circle rings on the side of the incubator. Callum hitches his breath in understanding. 

"Just trust me." 

Callum nods, fighting between the urge to clench his eyes shut and instead, glue them infinitely to where his single digit meets his little girl's hand. To begin with, he barely allows himself to touch her soft, delicate skin, but an accidental shake of his hand causes him to brush along her open palm and then, it's like he can't get enough. The first two knuckles of his finger cover her entire palm with room to spare, and he finds a comforting rhythm to smoothly stroke back and forth, side to side, anywhere he can reach. For the first time in 24 hours, the tears that fall from his eyes are solely from love, not tainted with an ounce of pain. 

The feeling of her wriggling ever so slightly, resulting in tiny fingers curling to meet the back of her Dad's and turn her sleeping face towards him, is enough to cause his chest to heave and vibrate, affection pouring from his body faster than the tears racing down his cheeks. 

At some point, Ben had risen from his knees and was now bent slightly, his hands clasped together across Callum's chest and grinning into his messy hair with pride. Truthfully, he wants to embrace Callum in a bone crushing hug, but he knows how monumental of a moment this is for his boyfriend, one that he will remember for the rest of his live and cherish like no other. For now, he is content to sway behind him and enjoy the view of Callum and his daughter, hand in hand, with a lifetime of firsts waiting for them both. 

"See, I told you she was just like her Dad; good with her hands and all." Ben comments playfully. 

"Oh Ben, behave." Callum scolds but there is no malice. He chuckles, because of course only Ben would have the audacity to even propose an innuendo involving his less-than-a-day-old baby. In an attempt to settle himself again, he runs his free hand over his face and inhales deeply, causing the scent of caffeine to reach his nose.

"Has your coffee gone cold by now?" 

"It was for you, babe." 

"But I hate coffee." Callum states, tilting his head up to Ben and wrinkling his nose as if to validate his point. 

Ben only chuckles back at him. "Just you wait."


End file.
